Storm of Thought on a Stygian Raft (Keating's Verse)

Pecking clouds drum 

Raining on my epitaph.

Sheets of slate row, the etchings path.

Drowned the sun as if it ever swam.

A sunless vision ov what the mire demands.

Dominion holds a stone, 

A sleepless shape—put to chest. 

Witness worlds gone,

To where we've never been.

Wanted peace, to roam, 

Sought out a happy end.

"This river flows, now." 

At least that's what she said.

The deeper the words are found, 

Take with them the rocky bits.

A souvenir ov bronze,

Mountains birth their forms from sentence.

When I remain inside, alone.. 

I lose my senses.

When the waters dry; subside

I will move the roots on Elysium.

One question unknown, I scry, 

The answer's missing:

"Although I seek to grow, yet, had I ever lived?"